


Wild like Silver, Wise like Gold

by wyrdGeometries



Category: Exalted (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-22 19:51:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17668964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyrdGeometries/pseuds/wyrdGeometries
Summary: Karom is a chosen of the Full Moon, a shape-shifting and bestial protector of Creation. When a fight breaks out at her village, she meets Ten, a head-in-the-clouds scholar with a big plan and beautiful eyes. They head off on an adventure to save (?) the world.





	1. Meet-Cute of the Chosen

**Author's Note:**

> I love the role playing game Exalted by Onyx Path, so I decided to write a story about some of my characters. They're gay and also arguably heroes.  
> Thanks for reading. Comments are always appreciated.

Karom sat at the edge of the cliff watching the sun set over the mountains to the west. The wind was ruffling her white hair, and she grinned her serrated teeth. Wouldn’t be long until the moon came out, and she could howl to her heart’s content. She cast her eyes down and regarded the little tundra village below the cliff with a decadent smirk playing on her lips. Ever since she chased off the last of the fair folk, her territory had been exactly how she wanted it. Just the little human pack, her wolves, her prey, and her. She gave a proud nod as she looked up at the setting sun again. Just the way she wanted it.

Her reverie was disturbed when her sharp hearing caught the sound of a row down in the village. Tch. Humans and their disagreements. If anything was going to ruin this, it was probably them. She stood, sighed, and started climbing down. Her clawed fingers gave her excellent purchase, so she made quick progress down the sloping cliffside. Down in the village, the sounds of shouting were getting more intense, until she heard the tell-tale whisper of a blade being drawn. Dagger, by the sound of it.

 **Shit**.

She set off from the cliff-wall in a jump, concentrating her will on wings and feathers, and in a silvery glow of essence her body changed to that of a hawk. She soared for a second, before diving towards the village with all the speed her wings could produce. With her hawk’s eyes, she could see what was happening. A strange woman with long red hair was surrounded by three of Karom’s villagers, one of which had drawn his skinning knife. 

As she watched, the villager went for the stranger with his knife. Karom’s heart jumped into her throat. But the stranger simply sidestepped the knife, grabbed the guy’s wrist with one hand and the knife with the other, and after a short flash of golden magic, the knife’s blade disintegrated into raw iron lumps. The men took a step back, and just then Karom hit the ground, changing back into her human shape in a flash of silver, taking everyone aback.

The stranger had assumed a defensive stance, while the three villagers all went to their knees, cowering. Karom gave the stranger a curt nod, before turning to her villagers.

“Return to your homes and consider yourselves blessed if I never have another reason to speak to you.” She growled and turned to the stranger. “Who are you?”

“Ten.” She still had her hands up, ready to fight.

Karom tilted her head, studying her stance. Not…terrible. “I’m Karom, resident trickster god on the mountain. Daughter of the Full Moon. Wolf-sister. Now, come on, give me a proper answer.”

“Ten is my name.”

“Yeah, and what’s that golden glow you did?”

“A gift.”

Karom gave a tired sigh. “From who?”

“Whom.”

“Really?!”

Ten grinned and nodded over her shoulder at the setting sun. “Him.”

“Yeah right, sister, you’re Sun-Chosen? Nice story, that’s really funny. Ain’t no such thing.”

“That’s not accurate. The Sun-Chosen have been absent for a few thousand years, true, but their existence is well-documented in several chronicles and histories, some even contemporaneous to their rule over Creation.”

Karom blinked at that. “Oh god you’re a fucking scholar, aren’t you?”

“Ten of Marble Towers, travelling linguist, historian, and occasional blacksmith and general fixer-upper.” She said, bowing with some flourish. “And I believe you are no god at all.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You’re Moon-Chosen, aren’t you?” She sounded almost giddy.

“Nice catch, nerd. Come on, I gotta get you away from my people.”

The two walked some distance into the tundra. Twilight was settling in, and around them Karom could hear the padding of wolves’ paws. The Sun-Chosen didn’t seem to notice, walking with the confidence of a human who thought she was in control.

“So how long have you been chosen?” Ten asked.

“Years. You?”

“Just over two months. I was writing my dissertation, and I started getting these…flashes of inspiration. Like all the answers were obvious, and I just had to reach out and grasp them. Then my forehead started glowing, and I had to run.”

“Marble Towers is close to the empire?”

“Near Medo in the northern threshold.”

“Never been.”

“Can’t recommend it. The dead walk down there. It’s a mess.”

“Well, this place should be as good as any.”

Karom took a small bundle of twigs out of her sack, and a little red lump of jade with a rune carved on it. She arranged the twigs into a small firepit, and then put the jade in there and whispered a word. Before long, it sparked and produced a clear and even flame. The two settled down to talk.

“I came north because I am looking for other chosen.” Ten continued. “There’s something I’m looking for, and I need a Moon-Chosen, a Star-Chosen, and a Death-Chosen to help me find it.”

Karom took out a piece of jerky and chewed on it while she listened. “Nice pipe-dream.”

“How is it a pipe-dream? I already found my Moon-Chosen.” Ten grinned confidently, green eyes glittering.

“Woah, getting ahead of yourself there. What is this thing you need all of those chosen for anyway?”

“Well. I’ve studied the First Age all my adult life. I know more about the different dynasties of Sun-Chosen that ruled at the dawn of time than anybody else in the world. I found a description of a weapon that could destroy the Empire, and free the world from its yoke. But to get to it, I need one of every Chosen to help me unlock it.”

“Ooo-kay. So, you need me to get your hands on a doomsday machine? I get that right?”

“Yes, that’s the long and short of it.”

“Why would I help a stranger get their hands on a doomsday weapon? I don’t know you, I don’t know what you’d use it for. And I have a thing going on here, you know?”

“Well, I wouldn’t be a stranger by the time we got there and gathered the others. So, there’s that.” Ten counted the objections off on one hand. “If by the time we get there you think I’d use it for nefarious purposes, just don’t help me unlock the gate. And lastly, while I appreciate your little piece of paradise here, is this really what you were chosen for? To sit in the tundra micromanaging some stab-happy humans?”

Karom watched Ten’s eyes glitter and blinked first. “I-”

“What did Luna tell you when you were chosen?”

Karom grimaced.

“Well?” 

“She told me to protect Creation.”

Ten smiled. “You’re a Steward of Creation. It’s what the Moon-Chosen exist for. And what threat to its order is greater than an Empire that hunts down and kills the Chosen as demons?”

Karom gritted her serrated teeth. “Fuck you.”

“Not convinced?”

“No, other way around. Where’d you learn to argue like this?”

“Oh, graduate school.” Ten laughed. “You should hear me lecture on vowel drift.”

“Right, cute. Okay, I’m in.”

“Great-”

“But you’re in too. I’m wolf and human both, and I need you to understand that you’re my pack, and if you betray that trust, I’ll tear out your throat before you harm Creation. Got it?”

Ten gulped and nodded.

“What’s your next destination?”

“Medo. There’s rumours of Shadowlands there, and I thought we could find a Death-Chosen.”

“Off to an audience with death then.” Karom grinned. “Good. Let’s go.”

*****

In a black fortress at the heart of land with earth of ash and trees of bone, a lord of the dead makes her way down a hallway towards her obsidian armoury, steps ringing against the stone. A ghostly howl resonates towards her, a warning that a theft has happened. She arrives at the mighty, stone gates, unopened, and throws them wide. Within, weapons and armour of black steel gleam back with evil intent, except for one pedestal, now naked, that once held her greatest prize. Her hands flex into fists, and the spirits of the dead cower at her furious anger.

“Whisper, you damnable thief.”


	2. Leaving home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, dear readers. Hope you're all well. I've been trying a new anxiety medication, and its messed with my energy levels a bit. But I'm growing accustomed to it and recovering.  
> As always, comments are greatly appreciated.

“When you said, ‘let’s go’, I thought you meant to Medo.” Ten remarked while one of the villagers refilled her cup with goat milk.

Around them the village was alive with firepits and vigorous conversation. Occasionally a villager would come up to Karom with a little bit of dried meat or some other useful supply for her trip. Ten watched carefully, studying the little tribe’s reverence for their guardian. They seemed to be familiar with her, and not terrified; just slightly nervous.

Karom had spread her coat as a blanket, leaving only her sleeveless shirt as a guard against the cold evening breeze. She didn’t seem to mind. Ten certainly didn’t mind her view Karom’s arms.

“That **is** what I meant, but I can’t just up and leave without giving my people some warning, you know? I’m not that irresponsible.”

“It has to be soon though.”

“I know, I know. Tomorrow.”

“That’s fine. We can even wait a few days if you need to.”

“No, no. Tomorrow. No need to draw out the farewell.”

“No need to rush it either.”

“Would you stop arguing with me? Luna’s cock, first you’re in a hurry, then you want to linger, or maybe you just want to bicker.”

Ten sighed. “I just don’t want to be forcing you into anything. I’ll leave it be. We’ll leave tomorrow.”

Karom growled. “Good.”

Ten cut a piece of cheese, glancing nervously at Karom. “So. You can change your shape.”

“Is that a question?”

“What’s it like?”

Karom set down the piece of jerky she had been eating, and looked thoughtfully out over the villagers, each little group at their own bonfire. A heat and crackle had spread like a blanket. She made a sound in her throat, searching for words.

“It’s a lot like being a human. There’s not really a different mind that comes in, new instinct or whatever. It’s more...” She gestured vaguely. “It’s not me that’s different, but the sensations my body can sense are. So, being a bird is different because I can feel the wind fluttering through my feathers, sure, but it’s mostly that it’s so clear? My vision, you know? I can see a whole lot more. Not just further either, but little details, like a mouse crawling in grass sometimes. As a wolf I get fangs and paws, and I pad around by moonlight, but the biggest change is that I can smell human stink and summer flowers and prey and blood and salt. It’s…quite nice.”

Ten smiled. “Yes, it sounds it.”

“What about you? What can you do, O Sun-Chosen?”

“Only what I could always do. I can speak. I can think. I build. I can spell, write, teach.” She shrugs blushing slightly. “It’s not as flashy, or impressive.”

“Hrhm. Show me. Write my name.”

Ten nodded and got out her inks. They were in little string-tied pots, and she set them down carefully. Watching her work, Karom studied her delicate fingers. They looked soft, except in a few places, like where the brush would rest. The crinkling of paper disturbed her, and she looked up to see Ten smiling, those green eyes glittering.

“Anyway.” Karom said as she turned away to hide her blushing face. “Paint down my name.”

“Karom, Moon-Daughter,” Ten said as she traced the brush across the parchment, “and Wolf-Sister, Steward of Creation, and friend to Ten.”

Karom studied the black, wet ink scribbles. “You’re right, it’s much less impressive than my shapechanging.”

Ten watched her. “You can’t read it?”

Karom blushed with a growl. “Maybe not, but-”

Ten gave a little laugh. “That explains it. I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, just. This is a party-trick of mine. I wrote what I said, you know, your name and your titles. But, if a specific person I know reads it, it’ll contain a different message. In this case if you were to read it.”

“Yeah, well, I can’t.”

“I know. It’s fine. I can teach you. The message will keep until then.” She rolled up the paper and put it away.

“Whatever. I’ll leave you for tonight. I have to roam a bit.” Karom got up and changed to her hawk shape, setting off into the night.

Ten looked after her, running a thumb over the parchment.

They met the next morning at Ten’s little cart. When Karom arrived, Ten was putting a grey-and-white speckled mule before the wagon. Ten gave a distracted wave while trying to calm the animal, and Karom took the time to look over the contents of the little cart. Scrolls, a few books, travelling rations, and a single cot with a blanket on it. She breathed in the scent of ink and parchment, and also caught a whiff of Ten’s scent from the bedding. 

Ten came up beside her, huffing slightly. “Well, me and Galiant are ready to head out.”

“Good," Karom said, her voice breaking slightly. She took a few steps away and studiously tried to look like she hadn't just sniffed Ten's bed clothes.

Karom took a moment then to focus on fur and paw and fang and shifted down into her wolf shape. It wasn’t exactly the majestic form you’d expect from a wolf-god; her fur was off white with little brown splotches and had a scruffy unruliness to it. She was short, dog-sized really, with relatively large paws. Ten clasped her hands together, eyes wide with fascination, earning a bored glare from the little amber-eyed wolf.

“You’re going to travel like that then?” Ten asked as she climbed the cart’s seat. Karom simply gave a solemn nod and started padding ahead. The mule seemed slightly worried, but Ten got it moving in short order.

They travelled east, into the glare of the dawning sun, tundra lichen and rime crunching underneath. 

*****

Meanwhile, in a land with earth of ash and trees of bone, a hunting party of ghosts was trudging through the dead woods. They were dressed in snug black leathers with fur trimmings, and were armed with hatchets with bone handles, nets, and short bows. One of them, a solidly built woman whose face was only half-covered in spectral skin, held the chain of a six-legged, sewn together horror with jagged fangs and rotting limbs. The horror skittered forward, its handler jogging behind it, and sometimes stopped and licked a tree or sniffed the ground, snarling and tittering.

“That’s it, there’s a good little spectre,” the handler whispered, “find the sneak-thief.”

They arrived at a small brook with black, stinking water flowing through it. Across it, crouching in the grey undergrowth, a teenaged boy with red eyes watched the hunters make their way forward. He wore a sleeveless shirt with a black vest over it. A half-cloak with a ghostly motif was draped over his left side. A bandoleer of knives was tied around his left thigh, black leather that matched his boots. When he moved, there was barely a sound, only the gleam of his red eyes and the whisper of knives flying through the air. 

A handful of the hunters fell in the first seconds of the ambush, as throwing knives found their marks. The horror jumped in front of its handler, taking three knives to its central mass, before skittering forward towards the assailant.

“Whisper!”, the handler shouted, as the horror yanked the chain out of her hand.

A few of the hunters returned arrow fire towards the undergrowth, but the whistle of arrows only hit earth and bone-white wood. After the volley ended, Whisper rose to his full height, and set into a run towards the group. The horror gnashed its fangs hungrily, and leapt towards him, all six limbs extended in finger-like claws. At the moment it set off, Whisper smirked and blurred into a bloody mist, which flowed forward at speed. He materialized again below the horror, in time to bring his knife up into its exposed belly and dragging it along the creature’s entire length. It collapsed behind him with a raspy gasp. Another desperate volley of arrows failed to find its mark, as he flit this way and that, like a small red whirlwind of knives.

When the dust had settled, Whisper started gathering his knives, while whistling a happy song from his home village. The handler gave a pained gasp as he pulled the knives from her body.

“Just finish me, Whisper.”

He regarded her with his red eyes and stopped whistling. “When you reform your shape, spirit, I want you to tell the Lady to stop following me. I will destroy her prize before I let any of her servants peel it out of my cold, dead hands.” 

Then he brought a knife down into her chest and twisted it. She gave a gurgling gasp as her form began to blur and turn to smoke. Whisper rose and regarded his handiwork. This should buy him some more time to get away from the Lady’s fortress, he thought to himself. Without much more ado, he set off trudging into the forest, heading west.

*****

“Okay, this is where we are,” Ten said as she pointed at her map. Karom was looking over her shoulder in her human shape, “and this is Medo.”

“How long is that?”

“Oh, about two-hundred leagues, give or take. We’ll be in the country in a hundred, maybe hundred-and-twenty, leagues. Another four or five days, give or take. At that point you should look out for roaming patrols by day. At night, we’ll try and find a city to rest in. Trust me, ghosts can be trouble if you don’t know how to deal with them.”

“Trouble how?”

Ten started rolling up the map. “Well, they’re spirits. That means that their natural state is not physical, like gods or demons, and for that reason they’re usually insubstantial outside of the Underworld. In Creation many of them can possess clothes or armour and get them to move, so they can attack you. If you knock the armour down though, they can just float on and possess something else.”

“So how do you deal?” Karom asked, cracking her knuckles.

“Couple of ways. If you know how, there are rituals that can ward them off. But the chosen also have their own ways. You could probably learn to sense them, if you practiced. You’ve got good senses, right?”

“I’ll get on that.”

“Good, good. Other way to deal with them is to catch them in the underworld, or in a shadowland at night. They’re physical as you and me in those places, which is good in some ways, and dangerous in others.”

“So, learn to sniff out spirits, or go to their home court?”

“Yes.”

“Wouldn’t want to spend time in the Underworld. Gonna practice the God-Sniffing Schnozzle Technique instead.”

Ten laughed, and the two started clearing up their campsite. Galiant was grazing nearby and was enticed with a carrot to return to the cart.

“What about you?” Karom asked.

“What about me?” 

“Can you sense spirits?”

“Yes, I can. I am an amateur occultist.”

“Oh, you’re that too, huh?” Karom snorted.

“We chosen of the sun channel our powers through our skills, so we kind of have to learn different disciplines.”

“Huh. That sounds hard. I just have a load of natural talent, and shapeshifting. No work required.”

“Well, aren’t you lucky?”

“It’s okay, I’m sure Luna would take you in if you prayed to her hard enough.” Karom teased.

“Oh, I’m sure she would be overjoyed to have a chosen who could read.”

“Ouch, low blow.” Karom said, wincing theatrically.

“You’re not that lowbrow.” Ten grinned.

Trying to hide her smile, Karom turned around with a rude gesture. “Blow me.”

Karom shifted into her wolf-shape with a good-natured growl and started padding along the little track, and Ten followed behind her on the cart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go. That's three of four main characters introduced. The last one is a few chapters out, though, so I guess this is a good point to give these guys' castes.
> 
> Karom - Full-Moon Lunar (With favoured perception)  
> Ten of Marble Towers - Twilight Solar (With an eclectic spread of favoured abilities)  
> Whisper - Day Abyssal (focused on ambush combat and thievery)
> 
> I'm still working on Whisper's full poetic epithet, but I can't really think of anything suitable. For those of you who don't know Exalted that well, the chosen of Death lose their name when they're chosen and are given an epithet by their new masters (The Maiden of the Mirthless Smile, etc). If you have a suggestion, leave it below, I guess.


End file.
